


Sick

by painted_whore



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Dean Winchester, Declarations Of Love, Dirty Talk, Does this count as a sickfic? lol, Dubious Consent, Emetophilia, Episode: s04e08 Wishful Thinking, Face-Fucking, First Time, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, Top Sam Winchester, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-12 06:56:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28506324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/painted_whore/pseuds/painted_whore
Summary: Dean throws up, Sam makes him feel better.Based on the events of 4x08 "Wishful Thinking".
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Kudos: 33





	Sick

**Author's Note:**

> Beware: this is disgusting.

Dean's lucky sandwich had turned bad. He was kneeling in front of the toilet, vomiting it up, shaking and coughing and drooling into the bowl, when Sam arrived at their motel room.

"You okay?" Sam asked through the door as Dean heaved and spit.

"No," Dean managed to reply. But it felt like the worst was over now, so he cleaned his mouth with a peace of toilet paper, then flushed.

The bathroom door opened and Sam peaked in carefully. "The sandwich?"

"Yeah." He coughed again. An acidic taste burned his mouth.

Sam kneeled down beside him to examine his brother more closely. Dean's face was flushed and he was sweating, dark armpit stains on his shirt.

"You look horrible."

"Thanks, bitch," Dean said, turning away from Sam to stare into the toilet bowl again. He felt his mouth fill with saliva worryingly fast; He was going to puke again.

"Jerk," Sam replied, though his voice was loving. He wrapped his long fingers around the back of Dean's neck. The intimate gesture made the older brother shudder.

"You're hot," Sam observed.

"I thought you said I look horrible, which one is it?" Dean joked dryly.

"Both." Sam let his hand travel down the spot where Dean's shirt has ridden up to reveal his lower back. He pressed his hand against his brother's skin. "You're not feeling good, are you?" he asked in a more serious tone.

"The fuck does it look like-"

Dean suddenly convulsed, hurling into the bowl again.

"Dean," Sam's voice was concerned, though soothing. "I can make you feel better."

Dean didn't manage to reply in between all the gagging. His brother's fingers slipped under the hem of his jeans, and suddenly Dean knew where this was going. Sam and him had been dancing around it for a while. Unnecessary touching, lingering looks when they were supposed to be looking away in disgust, oversharing their stories of sexual encounters right up to the detail of how tight the girl was or how deep Dean could swallow some random dude's dick. Hell, they were lonely, and when it really came down to it they only had each other.

Dean had jerked it to the image of Sam, and even Sam with him, many times. He always regretted it in the moments after, feeling guilty and wrong. Though compared to right now it was nothing, of course. Sam truly could not have picked a worse moment to finally become physical with Dean. 

But god damn, fucked up situations were kind of their thing. 

"Dean," Sam had leaned in closer to his ear, his voice low and raspy, almost a whisper, clearly aroused. "Do you want me to?" he asked, "Make you feel better?" 

Dean shut his eyes tightly. He wanted to stop himself from saying yes, but it was pointless. He _did_ want to feel better. He gagged again, wiped his spit with the back of his hand, then wiped his hand on his jeans. "Uh-huh," he groaned. 

Sam wanted to make sure. "Yeah?" 

"Yeah," Dean growled. 

Sam did not waste a second before awkwardly unbuckling Dean's belt from behind, then opening the jean's button and zipper carefully while Dean gasped for air in between gags. He pulled the pants and underwear down without another question. 

Dean's heart raced as he felt Sam's hands on his ass cheeks, spreading them apart carefully. Embarrassment crept up inside him, and he faked a gag to hide his face deeper in the toilet bowl. 

A soft kiss on the top of his ass soothed him, then another one lower down, and _oh god, Sam was going to-_

Sam's tongue flicked over Dean, eliciting a moan from the older brother. Then Sam dug in deeper, fingers tightly grabbing the checks to keep them apart, nails digging in.

Sam continued to lick at Dean for a while, feeling his dick harden a bit more with every little noise Dean made, whether it was a moan or a heave. Every now and again he stopped and leaned back to take in the sight of his brother's hole. 

When he was finally satisfied with the wetness of his Dean's hole, he started to press two fingers into his brother, slowly, carefully. Dean moaned obscenely into the bowl, hands gripping the sides of the toilet so hard that his knuckles whitened. 

Sam placed a soft kiss on Dean's back in an attempt to calm him down. He knew that he should have started with one finger, but he couldn't wait much longer. His brother was tight, and tightened up even more with every spasm. God, this was going to feel good. Sam could barely hold himself back, but he knew he had to loosen Dean up a little bit first. He continued to finger Dean as his brother heaved and spat.

Dean's thoughts were in a whirlwind. No single thought stayed long enough for him to grasp, so eventually, he tuned them out like white noise, and concentrated on physical sensations instead: How his stomach was turning, how his whole body was clenching up, Sam's fingers inside him scissoring him open, pushing in and pulling out in a frantic rhythm. Every now and then the saliva collecting in his mouth would become overwhelming, and he had to spit, triggering his own gag reflex by doing so. 

Eventually, after throwing up another time, just when Dean thought that he was empty and couldn't possibly have anything left in his stomach, Sam removed his fingers - slowly but entirely. There was the sound of a belt unbuckling, a zipper being pulled down, and Dean turned his head around to see Sam grab his own dick from inside his underwear, pulling it out. 

Sam looked up, catching Dean's gaze. His lips curled into a smile, and he pressed the soft tip of his penis against Dean's ass. 

"Can I...?" Sam asked. 

Dean didn't have any words in him anymore, so he just gave Sam a grunt and pushed his ass back against Sam's dick. 

"Ah, fuck-" Sam thew his head back, some hair sticking to his sweaty face. 

Dean took the opportunity to flush the toilet before leaning above it again. He didn't want to look in, so he pressed his eyes shut and waited for Sam to move.

He didn't have to wait long. Sam circled Dean's asshole with his dick for a few seconds, one hand still spreading Dean's cheeks with a fierce grip. 

"Can't believe you let me do this to you," Sam growled. "God, you're such a disgusting freak." He held his body steadily over Dean's, pressing into him. Lips close to his brother's ear he continued, "I fucking love it, love you..." and started pressing into Dean's hole. 

That was all a little too much for Dean, who was now moaning and whimpering and desperately rubbing his crotch against the toilet in an attempt to get some friction going. Sam's length filled him up inch by inch, and Sam began slowly rocking back and forth, not quite pulling in and out, knowing very well how strange the sensation of being penetrated was at first, not wanting Dean to freak out. 

After a while it was easier, Sam started to move more, responding to little sounds of pleasure coming from Dean, who's humping the toilet. Sam reached in between their bodies and grabbed his brother, who was fully hard and leaking. Sam started pumping Dean in a slow rhythm, the same way he was moving inside of him. He continued like this for a few minutes, and Dean's gagging noises transformed more and more into delicious, rolling moans. 

It felt so fucking good, Sam couldn't hold back anymore. He carefully got his knees off the floor, squatting behind Dean, leaning over him even further, one hand jerking his brother off, the other travelling up until his fingers were tangled in Dean's hair. He wanted to pull on it, revel in the sound Dean would make, but he needed to change his position so he could continue to fuck him without destroying his legs, so he pushed Dean's head down instead, wrapping his body over Dean's even closer, sliding all the way into his brother. 

Dean spluttered, noise trapped in the toilet bowl, but didn't try to pull back up, so Sam pushed him down a bit more, until Dean's head was practically completely inside the toilet, and began fucking Dean for real, pulling out almost too far before pushing back in. 

Dean moaned at the sensation, then whispered desperately when Sam slammed his hips forward. Sam did it again and again - and again and again Dean would make these beautiful sounds, echoing inside the toilet bowl. 

After a while Sam stopped pushing Dean's head down and instead pulled up Dean's shirt up as far as it would go, starting to scratch at Dean's back softly, reveling in the pinkish trails his fingernails left on his brother's skin. He placed a few kisses on them, muttering Dean's name in between. 

"Dean..." A rough, dirty kiss on soft skin. "Dean, say you're-" Sam had to concentrate on his breathing so he could get the words out. "Say you're my dirty whore, please." He didn't know where the wish had come from, but god damn, he wanted to hear it so badly, wanted Dean to say such obscene words. 

"Sam-" was Dean's weak reply. "Sammy, I'm gonna come-, I'm gonna-" 

"Say it," Sam commanded, irritated at Dean for ignoring him, but nevertheless keeping a tight grip and a steady rhythm on Dean's cock. 

Dean whimpered, and started a poor attempt at lifting himself away from the toilet. Sam couldn't have that, so he pushed Dean down again. "Say -" his hips snapped forward, fucking into Dean hard and fast, "- It."

"I'm- I'm your dirty whore,-" Dean pushed out, voice breaking halfway through. 

Sam felt the fire that burned in his abdomen grow hotter. "Good boy," he whispered, jerking Dean faster. Not two seconds later Dean came against the toilet with a loud groan, whole body shaking with pleasure and exhaustion. Sam let go of him but kept fucking him, slower now, until Dean recovered from his orgasm. 

"God, Sam..." Dean started, but Sam pulled out and turned his brother around to face him before Dean could say anything else. 

"Suck," Sam commanded after getting on his feet. His cock was only inches away from Dean's face. 

Dean hesitated for a moment, wiping spit off his face. There was still a bad taste in his mouth. 

Sam didn't wait for Dean to change his mind. He grabbed Dean's jaw and pulled it open, pushing his cock in between his brother's plump lips until he could fit no more in. Dean gagged and breathed in hard through his nose. His hand found Sam's pants and grabbed on tightly. He pulled and pushed the fabric as Sam began to move inside him, hitting the back of his throat every time, fucking Dean's mouth slowly but relentlessly. 

Dean tried to say something, but the words were lost, and Sam sped up at the vibration of Dean's helpless groans. He had two hands on Dean's head, tugging his hair, and he felt his own orgasm build inside him. 

"Dean, baby, I'm gonna come-," he warned Dean. "Be a good boy and swallow, will you?" 

Dean's acknowledgment was a gurgling sound and a yank on Sam's pant leg. It was all Sam needed to be pushed over the edge. With a heavy moan he came down Dean's throat, keeping a steel grip on Dean's head so he wouldn't move away. Dean wriggled about, fingers scratching Sam's pants, and finally swallowed a few times around Sam's cock. Sam pulled out with a satisfied sigh, knees weak. 

Dean was staring up at him with glassy eyes and swollen lips. Sam drops to the bathroom floor beside him and slides a hand on Dean's neck. 

"You did so well, Dean," he praised, voice low. He rubbed circles into Dean's cheek with his thumb, thinking of what to say. "God, you were so good." 

Dean held Sam's eye contact and simply nodded. He was breathing hard, sweat pearls on his forehead. 

"I didn't go too hard on you, did I?" Sam asked carefully, guilt audible in his words. Dean shook his head softly and closed his eyes. 

"Good." Sam cupped Dean's cheek and leaned in. He pressed a tender kiss on his brother's messy lips, and felt Dean breathe in sharply. The kiss lasted only a few seconds. 

"I love you," Sam whispered against Dean's lips when they were apart again.

Dean shook his head again, eyes still closed, and touched Sam's forehead with his own.

But that was okay. 

Sam didn't need to hear the words; He knew Dean loved him too. 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope there are some sick fucks out there who enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it.  
> Comments make my day! ♥


End file.
